The Spark
by CherrySin
Summary: True Blood, from the start, with a LOT more Godric in it... Rated MA for expected TB tomfoolery, adult themes, violence & blood.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok now folks, this is my first ever foray into TB land so please don't be too harsh…**

**WARNING: this story is rated MA as it will contain adult themes; meaning lemons, violence, blood play etc. That said if that kind of content isn't your cup of tea or if you are underage, kindly please find something else/age appropriate to read.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TB or SVM, the series were Allan Ball's baby and the characters and the main plot belong to Charlaine Harris, capice? Okay then…**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1:**

* * *

"Night Sookie!" – "Night Cher!" Arlene called out shortly followed by their boss, her arm up in the air, waving energetically at the younger girl standing half-way across the parking lot.

Quickly pasting a smile onto her face, Sookie turned back towards Merlotte's Bar & Grill, just in time to see Sam – her boss – leaning against the already locked back door, pretending to not have been staring at her while he waited for his employees to safely get into their cars.

'_God dammit, she's so beautiful…I just wish sh-' _

With a quick inhale, Sookie slammed her mental shields down tight so she wouldn't have to hear the rest – God, talk about awkward! It was one thing to overhear some random patron thinking something nasty, usually something sexual and nasty – but it was a whole 'nother matter to hear your _boss_ think how much in love he is with you. _'Just…nope'_, she thought with a shudder, even as she raised her own hand up in a wave, calling out a no-nonsense "night ya'll!", as she watched Rene Lenier – Arlene's current boyfriend – throw an arm around said red heads shoulder while the woman in question cackled loudly at something he whispered just for her to hear.

For a moment there, Sookie found herself rooted to the spot, watching the couple get into Rene's truck. A sudden sharp pang of sadness pierced her heart; Lord Almighty, how strongly she wished some days to be normal, all just so she could have a tiny piece of what Arlene and Rene had.

But nope _'that's just ain't meant to be…' _she thought bitterly, willing the stinging in her eyes to stop already – with a stuttering inhale and exhale, the young blonde quickly unlocked her beloved car – a bright yellow jalopy that was already older than her when she bought it with her hard earned money, she hurriedly got in, slamming the door closed in her agitation.

A tired groan fell from her full pink-painted lips as soon as she sat down, her head hitting the steering wheel with a soft thud soon after.

"Good Lord in heaven…what a day", Sookie muttered under her breath, recalling the chaos that had broken out in Merlotte's when the local Bon Temps Hawks won todays match against their long time frenemies – the Ruston Bulls. Seeing how practically the whole town had gone on to watch the game, was it really that surprising that they chose to celebrate the team's victory at the one and only bar in town..?

Nah, she didn't think so.

Still, today was, as Gran would call it, hell on wheels and Sookie was utterly exhausted and not for the first time in the last ten minutes, she found herself wishing she could teleport instead of reading minds.

"…and if wishes were horses, the beggars would ride…", the young waitress whispered softly as she raised her head up from the steering wheel with a weary sigh, starting her car and backing out of the parking lot.

* * *

**ONE WEEK EARLIER – SHREVEPORT**

* * *

He could feel the thrum of the low bass…_music_…in his very bones as he stood, eyes closed, on the rooftop of his childe's establishment, having just escaped the heady sexual tension loaded atmosphere of the bar (as well as more-than-accepting and clingy clientele).

'_Perhaps…'_ he thought, _'…coming here was a mistake…'_

He shook his head in a negative, almost derogatory manner, _'…no, no it wasn't. However hard this will be – is, however misunderstanding Eric might be of the reason behind my sudden visit when we haven't seen each other in almost a century, when our maker-childe bond has been closed for much longer than that, however stubborn and laden with desperation his son might get because truly; somewhere deep down – very deep down – he knows what this visit is about, he had known for a long time this was coming.' _

'_Even so…'_ Godric thought, with a sad nigh on imperceptible shake of his head as his once vividly grey – more blue-grey, like storm clouds really – eyes opened, taking in the sight of sprawling city lights and darkness of the night in front of him, _'…it won't be easy saying goodbye without actually saying it.'_

With a morose sigh falling from his pale lips, the ancient vampire turned to head back inside – before Eric came looking for him or better yet – sent his own progeny after him. Not that there was anything wrong with Pamela; she is rather entertaining, if a tad morbid in her sense of humour and how and where she chose to wield it.

For once being completely honest with himself, Godric thought the almost a century old vampire could make even him laugh…that is, if he could feel anything as he found that the older he was – the longer his accursed existence continued – the less he felt physically and emotionally…and lately, he felt absolutely nothing…no pain, no joy or happiness, not even irritation…

Gripping the sleek metal doorknob in his hand until it gave an ominous creek, as though promising to disintegrate under the exertion of such inhuman strength while the vampire in question stood as still as only one of the undead could manage at the threshold of the rooftop exit, breathing rapidly yet shallowly as he tried to calm his restless mind.

Suddenly, a faint jangling of a chain somewhere in the not too far distance followed by just as faint sounds of a struggle and an inhuman growl reached his sensitive ears. Head swivelling in the direction the noise came from, Godric focused his hearing and just listened for a moment and soon enough, picked up the sound of two distinct voices; a male and a female, arguing and cussing heatedly in hushed voices.

The female seemed to be worried as much as she was angry with her partner for roping her into yet another of his schemes and the male – his voice tremulous yet agitated too – hissed at her to shut up and help keep the 'fanger' down.

A deep frown marring his handsome features, the Sherriff of Dallas, Area Nine realised the two were none other than vampire drainers' quick at work.

'_So close to a vampire bar too…'_ he thought, his displeasure and disgust almost palpable.

Without really thinking as to what he was doing, the next moment found Godric jumping off Fangtasia's rooftop and down onto the asphalted parking space below to the sound of a sharp inhale followed by a wet squelching sound, panicky scrabbling and hasty, retreating footsteps.

Not wasting time further, even as he realised he was probably too late for the vampire who fell for the trap set for them by the two humans, the dark haired vampire let his much honed senses take him to where he wanted to go and as he reached the scene of the apparent crime – not that the human authorities would recognise it as such, at least not any time soon – he grimaced; the 'victim' wasn't someone he knew, rather just another creature of the night that had, at one point or another, had blown through Fangtasia in hopes of finding an adequate meal in one of the fang bangers frequenting Eric's bar.

Still, the pile of clothes and blood and goop at his feet used to be a person – undead as they were – and if there was anything that still managed to irk him these days, it would be _injustice…_

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**A/N: So, there we go. Chapter 1 done, premise is set and I truly hope that you've enjoyed reading this as much I've enjoyed writing this and hopefully, neither Godric nor Sookie weren't OOC or at least too OOC… **


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: this story is rated MA as it will contain adult themes; meaning lemons, violence, blood play etc. That said if that kind of content isn't your cup of tea or if you are underage, kindly please find something else/age appropriate to read.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TB or SVM, the series were Allan Ball's baby and the characters and the main plot belong to Charlaine Harris, capice? Okay then…**

**CHAPTER 2:**

* * *

**ONE WEEK EARLIER – SHREVEPORT**

* * *

His fists clenching and unclenching at his sides while he stood still as a statue, staring at the remains of the vampire at his feet, Godric became lost in the sudden and quite debilitating onslaught of memories of his younger days when, with a feral grin on his lips, most nights _he'd_ bring unwitting human bodies to just such a state as this poor sap splattered all over the filthy alleyway mere feet away from Fangtasia – Shreveport's local Vampire Mecca – where the undead gather nightly…to _prey_.

And oh, he could remember quite vividly, the feeling of holding a still beating human heart in his hand as he – so very new to un-life – had killed for the first time; he could still remember how the boy, so much younger than Godric himself and yet a slave for his master as well, had tasted. The warm, rich ambrosia sliding down his throat like liquid honey; sating him, warming him…

Startling as a cold drop of water splashed onto his face, the ancient vampire looked up skyward, taking in the heavy rain clouds looming above the city, as though threatening to pop open at any moment and leave everything and everyone drowning in its wake.

The first drop is then swiftly followed by the second and then one more until it's raining or more like pouring as it seems to be, the almost torrential waters drenching everything in their path in mere moments.

Watching the storm wash away all traces of the crime committed, he frowns, the itch for justice intensifying even as the last rivulets of scarlet red course down the storm drain, leaving behind only a pile of soaked through clothes the victim had been wearing.

His pale lips pull into a thin line as he comes to a decision and swiftly kicks the pile of rags towards the chain-link fence on the other side of the alleyway which, as usual, is lined with numerous thrash bags and reeking dumpsters and he is quite sure no one will question such a find in a place like this.

The scents of the drainers still fresh in his mind, Godric vows to himself to put a stop to the drainer's crimes tonight. Legs bent at the knees, he prepares to take off into the night when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

"Master, it is almost dawn. We should head to ground". Eric's voice is soft and somewhat reverent, as it always is whenever he speaks to his maker. And though the sentence, innocent sounding as it would be to someone who didn't know his precious, ever-scheming Viking, Godric's shoulders slump because _he does know better_ – 'tis not a question nor a request, oh no; it is a plea.

With a tired sigh, the ancient one faces his wayward childe: "…of course, my son. You are right – it is much too close to sunrise. This can wait until tomorrow, let us go to ground for the day."

And upon seeing the stark relief in Eric's eyes, Godric feels a sliver of guilt squeeze his long-still heart but his mind is well and truly made; once he finds the two vile creatures responsible for such atrocities committed against the vampire kind – and probably worst still against their own kind – he will leave Shreveport and Eric behind so he could finally end his miserable, lonely existence and repent to his one _true_ maker…

* * *

**NOW – FANGTASIA**

* * *

The whole week following the incident in the back alleyways of Shreveport, Godric found himself being coddled by his recalcitrant childe. Every step he took, Eric was just a couple of steps behind him, watching him with a sharp gaze of a deadly predator, ready to pounce and put a stop to his maker ending himself…and Pamela – the faithful little lap dog that she is – was right behind her own master, helping him watch over her Grand-Sire as well as throwing more-than-willing fang bangers his way to entice him to feed.

In other words, Godric hadn't had a spare moment to himself in days and while he loved his childe very, very much; he'd had enough. His temper flaring for the first time in many, many years, he swatted at Eric's outstretched arm, making him drop the bottle of freshly heated True Blood as soon as he came close enough to reach him.

The bottle shattered upon contact with the hardwood floor, the synthetic blood splattering everyone in a two feet radius. Most of the humans in attendance grimaced in disgust as the hot red liquid splashed onto and marred their clothes or shoes and some exclaimed in righteous indignation and anger. The vampires though, quickly silenced their companions, not wanting to incur the wrath of the most ancient being they've ever laid their eyes on.

"Mind your own God damn business!", Pam snapped at the vampires surrounding them when the bar fell into a hush following the incident. Thoroughly cowed, the attendees were quick to resume their activities, knowing better than to disobey even as a low growl rolled through the room, reverberating in their very bones.

Another growl building in his chest, Godric glowered at his son.

"Master…" Eric started, quickly lowering his eyes and bowing his head at the look on his makers face.

"That is enough, Eric…" the older vampire spoke simply, his words carrying even though his voice remained un-raised "…if you insist on playing games – do so with your own childe, she is young enough for that. I, however, tire too easily these days to want to keep up with all the silly charades."

His glare softened somewhat when Eric winced faintly and Pamela moved closer to him in a show of support.

"Tonight, I have business to take care of…and I'll do so alone", he added when his son finally raised his eyes to meet his gaze, surprise and curiosity in his blue orbs "…and tomorrow night I am returning to Dallas. Pamela, please book my trip." He didn't wait for the protestations that were sure to follow his decision, choosing instead to leave and track down the vampire drainers from earlier in the week like he was ready to do for the last couple of days before his plan was inevitably ruined.

"Yes, Grand-Sire…" The blonde whispered in acknowledgement, her own blue eyes – so much like her makers – following Godric's retreating figure until he stepped outside and flashed away into the night.

* * *

**BON TEMPS, MERLOTTE'S BAR & GRILL**

* * *

Sticking close to the tree line where the overgrown tree branches hang quite precariously low over the parking space of the establishment in question, Godric watches intently as the human couple he suspects of being the drainers' he is after lazily peruse their menus while they wait for a waitress to approach them.

Quickly glancing down at the lit up screen of his cell phone, he once more scans the photograph of the confidential information files on active and suspected drainers in Eric's Area, meticulously gathered by his day-man.

There isn't much – no more than a last name and an address for a middle-of-the-swamp Bon Temps trailer park, that was shut down years ago and really; he should just head back to Shreveport until he could get his hands onto more substantial information as he only wanted to put a stop to a couple of humans who were so atrocious in nature, they would and – according to the file – had harmed and worse, not only the un-dead but also their own kind too…

But then again; turning back now would mean that he _most likely_ would have to deal with Ginger – Eric's personal Renfield, as Pamela had so graciously introduced the woman to Godric upon his arrival – again.

If he were being honest, there wasn't much wrong with her, especially if one was into the whole sycophantic fang banger thing…and the ceaseless screeching he could put up with. What was wrong was that the already heavily over-glamoured woman was a nuisance to glamour the first time around she'd caught him snooping around Eric's office for a shred of information that could aid him.

He involuntarily shuddered at the thought of having to deal with her again as both Eric and Pam had been continuously scrambling the poor woman's mind for years, maybe even longer, to the point where Ginger was not only blindly loyal to the two but also – as some humans might say – so fucked up in the head, she couldn't actually tell what year it was anymore and thought herself much younger then what she actually is.

With a despondent sigh, he quickly shoved his cell phone into his jeans pocket and resumed his previous activity of watching the rather rude couple sat at one of the window booths of the establishment. After all, it wasn't like he had anything better to do with his night as he most certainly did not want to head back to Fangtasia where Eric would keep on hounding him…so, human-watching and hoping for the best it is.

And by God's grace, he didn't have to wait long for something to happen as a mere couple of minutes later, a waitress approached the suspected drainers table.

Godric's long-still heart lurched in his chest when he finally caught sight of the woman; she was young and pretty…no – beautiful, he decided when she shifted were she stood while waiting for the couples order, offering him a better view of her. But there was something not quite right with her big brown eyes – they were beautiful, just as the rest of her, but there was a deep sadness there in that gaze that wasn't supposed to be present in someone so young, even as she smiled tensely while quickly jotting down the order when it was given to her.

He frowned when he realized that, for the first time in centuries, he felt a compelling _need_ to get closer to a human being. Not the same kind of _closer _he felt when he first encountered Eric…or Nora, no. He did not wish to simply abscond with her into the night and turn her at earliest convenience…

No, this was so much more; he wanted to _know _her, to keep her safe – always…he wanted – _needed _– to erase the sadness in her eyes, he wanted to-

A sudden whooshing sound followed by slow, deliberate footsteps heading towards the entrance of the bar, halted his thought train and brought him back to the here and now with a jarring efficiency.

Swallowing past the lump at the back of his throat, Godric subconsciously inhaled and his head snapped towards the entrance of the bar with speed that would have given him whiplash had he still been human: there was a new scent lingering in the air and he knew that scent – it was the unmistakable scent of a fellow vampire…

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**A/N: Thank you all so much for all the favs, follows and reviews for last chapter. To be honest, I didn't expect any as this story was kinda a 'spur-of-the-moment' thing. So truly, thank you and I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter just as much. **


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING: this story is rated MA as it will contain adult themes; meaning lemons, violence, blood play etc. That said if that kind of content isn't your cup of tea or if you are underage, kindly please find something else/age appropriate to read.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TB or SVM, the series were Allan Ball's baby and the characters and the main plot belong to Charlaine Harris, capice? Okay then…**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. Life's been crazy lately…**

**CHAPTER 3:**

* * *

**BON TEMPS, MERLOTTE'S BAR & GRILL**

* * *

As she stood leaning on the bar, waiting for someone from her section to call on her, the bar phone started ringing, surprisingly just loud enough to be heard over the lively chatter of the evenings clientele and Sookie watched with mild interest as her boss quickly patted his hands dry on a rag that always seemed to be hanging out of his jeans pocket before hurriedly stepping over to the phone.

"Evening, Merlotte's", he spoke rapidly into the receiver, listening intently for a moment even as he stepped back up to the bar proper. "Hey Tara…"

"_Not again…"_, the blonde waitress thought, a groan of utter consternation falling from her pink pouty lips as Sam again listened intently to what Tara had to say, "…yeah, she's right here…", and then swiftly turned on his heel and approached Sookie, his arm outstretched and waiting for her to take the phone.

Grimacing, she took the receiver from him, "…I'm so sorry, Sam. She knows not to call me at work."

Sam was quick to assure her: "Sookie, its okay. You don't abuse the privilege like Arlene does."

"Hey!", said red head exclaimed as she hurriedly bustled passed the bar, "…I heard that!"

"Well I wish you would hear that!", Sam retorted quickly and Arlene didn't even bother turning around as she sassed right back, as was common occurrence, "…please Sam, I have kids!"

With a fond smile playing on her lips, Sookie put the receiver up to her ear: "…this better be an emergency."

"_I just quit my job…"_ , Tara went straight to the point.

"Again..?", Sookie asked, her voice belying her disbelief.

Tara snorted derisively, _"…I can't work for assholes."_

"Well I'm glad you can afford to be so picky miss say-hello-to-the-rest-of-us…", Sookie sassed, her disbelief mounting. It wasn't a secret Tara had a mouth on her, and it certainly wasn't a secret she had great difficulty watching what she was saying most of the time, but this…this was…typical Tara.

"_Oh, shut up!",_ Tara huffed, _"…Sam's not an asshole, and he's totally in love with you."_

"Tara, he is my _boss_…" the blonde retorted, her voice lowering to a whisper as he did so.

"_Jesus, Sookie, you need to lighten up."_

Sookie pouted but did not refute her friend claim: "…you know I hate it when you use the J word." Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, as though someone's eyes were on her, she shook her head, her ponytail swishing from side to side, "…now, I have to go."

Tara sighed: _"I'm comin' over. I need a margarita. A big one."_

The blonde waitress only rolled her eyes before hanging up the phone and quickly setting it down on the bar top so Sam could place it back in its cradle only to find the man starring at her while wiping a glass dry.

Giving him a nervous smile, she lowered her head and starred quite intently at the scarred bar top, intently keeping her shields down tight as she really didn't want to deal with her bosses thoughts tonight on top of Tara's crap.

The sudden "hey" as Dawn – her leggy brunette co-worker and one of Jason's many conquests – approached her, startled her into a gasp.

"Mack and Denise Rattray are about to sit down in your section."

Sookie hastily turned around and scanned the bar floor – and of course – _"…there the terrible twosome are"_, she thought, her lips twisting into a scowl as she watched Mack Rattray slap his wife's ass.

"What the fuck!", Denise screeched loudly as she covered her stinging cheek with her hand. Mack only grinned unrepentantly and pulled the still bristling woman towards an available window booth.

Just as quickly, Sookie turned back around towards the bar, looking like someone had just kicked her poor Tina.

"Don't let them get to you, chere", Sam said upon noticing the expression on the blonde's face, "…they're not worth it."

With a tremulous smile directed to her boss in silent thanks, Sookie squared her shoulders and started towards the Rattrays table, her steps fast and measured so she could get this over and done with as soon as possible. Even so, her shields started slipping a couple of steps in, Mack Rattrays filthy thoughts washing over her like a sudden wave, making the blonde stumble before she quickly righted herself and continued on her way: _"hell, there ain't nothin' on this menu ain't gon' give me the runs. Goddamn son of a—", _the disgusting diatribe cutting off as soon as he noticed her approaching.

"What can I do for ya'll tonight..?", she asked, hoping they didn't dawdle with placing their orders like some nights.

"_Well you can wrap your sweet pink lips 'round ma slim reaper. That's what you can do…", _Mack thought shamelessly while he sat there undressing her with his eyes.

Sookie's hand tightened around the pen she was holding against the note pad, her slight frame quivering with the deep desire to either run away crying or to give in to her not-so-secret baser desire to shove the note pad she was holding up the pigs—

She took a deep calming breath through tightly clenched teeth as what came out of the man's mouth was nowhere near what he thought of answering her question with: "…why don't we just start out with a pitcher of Bud..?"

As the waitress quickly jotted the order down, he continued to molest her with his eyes, his thoughts – once again – screaming at her loudly and clearly: _"…and then you can hop aboard the Mack express, and ride back all the way to heaven…"_

Sookie signed the order off more forcefully than technically necessary before gritting out: "…alrighty. Anything else I can get ya?"

That's when Denise Rattrays' thoughts joined the party as the woman sat hunched over next to her husband, completely oblivious to his dirty thoughts, impassively playing with a strand of her curly copper-red hair; _"…what the hell is wrong with her? God, she's pathetic…"_

"Onion rings, _with _mustard…" she said with no small amount of attitude, while her mind – much like her husbands that way – continued to broadcast: _"…like a dog…that's been kicked too many times and just keeps on comin' back for more…"_

Sookie tries to smile through the mental anguish the Rattrays' are unknowingly causing her but it comes out looking like one of her famed 'crazy Sookie' grins instead and – feeling embarrassed and humiliated – the usually cheery girl chirps out a quick "…comin' right up!", before swiftly turning on her heel and marching at speed towards the back bar area to hand the order over to Lafayette. And as the short order cook takes her order – and the side order of extra onion rings up off the floor – and turns away to prepare it, Sookie's face crumbles and she sniffles. _"Yeah, looks like it is gonna be one of those nights…"_

As Lafayette throws a bunch of frozen onion rings into a pan with oil and gives it a quick stir so it wouldn't burn, he turns back towards the blonde girl he's known pretty much all his life, thanks to his _hookah _of a cousin, and frowns.

Sure, tonight's not the first time some fucked up redneck with barely two functioning brain cells to rub together has said something to upset the usually extra perky girl but, damn it all, tonight the girl looks to be close to tears.

With a decisive narrowing of his brightly painted eyes, Lafayette quips: "Oh, Sookie…chika-chika-bow-rowr."

Sookie's big brown eyes widen almost comically and she tenses as she waits to hear what's going to come out of La-La's mouth next 'cause Tara's shameless, cad of a cousin has no brain-to-mouth filter whatsoever.

"You look like a porn star, with that tan and pink lipstick…you's got a date..?"

Sookie frowned. "No, when I wear make-up I get bigger tips…"

At that, Lafayette bursts out laughing, seemingly deeply amused: "…yes girl, that's it. These damn rednecks are suckers for _packaging…_"

Ignoring his comment, she continues: "…and I get even bigger tips when I act like I don't have a brain in my head but, if I don't – they're all scared o' me…"

Laf snorted at that deduction. "They ain't scared of you, honey child…no, no…they scared of what's between yo legs…"

"LAFFAYETTE!", Sookie exclaimed, "…that's nasty talk. I won't listen to that."

Arlene, who had approached the back bar to place her own order just in time to hear what was being said, laughed. "Do you even know what's between a woman's legs, Lafayette?"

"I know every man, whether straight, gay or George mutherfuckin' Bush IS TERRIFIED…of the pussy."

"Lafayette!", Sookie exclaimed once more, her face twisting into an expression of disgust as Dawn joined the conversation: "oh, what are we talkin' about..?"

"Pussy…", Lafayette answered immediately, followed by Arlene's heated: "…hey, listen, not everybody's gay, okay? Not everybody wants to have sex with you."

"Oh, you would be surprised, Arlene. People you know. That's all I'm saying…", La-La retorted with a sassy gesture of the hand.

"Well, I don't want to have sex with you…", Dawn quipped, her tone playful as Arlene huffed although a grin could be seen pulling the corners of her lips.

"Uh-uh, me neither", Arlene was quick to agree with her fellow waitress, her grin growing.

"Shit…you bitches don't know what you're missin'. I got six gears on these hips…", Lafayette retorted, slamming his hips repeatedly into the work table to help emphasize his point.

Dawn – as usual – was quick to catch on to Lafayette's little game when she saw him throw a quick, inconspicuous look at the blonde while humping the kitchen worktop. Grinning mischievously, she threw her head back and started moaning in sync to the flamboyant cooks thrusts: "…no, baby. You don't know what you're missin'…"

Swiftly turning and walking away from the bar, she made a show of swinging her hips, free arm thrown back as she slapped her own ass: "…you can watch her walk away. Make you wanna slap it, make you wanna slap it!"

"Everybody knows that!", La-La retorted as he watched the curvaceous brunette saunter away, "…everybody been there. John's been there…"

"I'm slappin' it! Take these, baby. Peaches and cream", Arlene was next to leave, cupping her own breasts as she continued the friendly but rather dirty teasing game.

"I'll give you a little cocoa, lil cocoa", Laf retorted, watching the red head walk away too before turning his gaze back on Sookie: the blonde looked clearly flustered, if the blush spreading on her cheeks was any indication. "Them bitches could do with some cocoa between their legs…ain't that right, Sook?"

Eyes widening and her blush spreading, Sookie muttered something incomprehensible before quickly fleeing to the relative safety of the bar floor to the sound of Lafayette's laughter.

* * *

While Tara – who'd gotten to Merlotte's shortly after Sookie escaped Lafayette's clutches – sat at the bar, nursing a large margarita, the blonde waitress could be seen flitting about the premises, busying herself with collecting used dinner plates and long since empty beer pitchers and when her arms where finally full, she quickly made her way over to the bar proper where she proceeded to drop off her load.

"My life sucks", Tara complained to her friend as soon as she approached the bar.

"Oh, Tara, don't you be feelin' sorry for yourself. That's just lazy."

"Well, why can't I keep a job then?", the dark skinned girl whined with a pout forming on her lips.

"Maybe, that's 'cause you can't seem to keep your mouth shut..?", Sookie retorted.

"Bitch, who asked you?", Tara groused with attitude before winking at her friend. Sookie chuckled and Tara joined her, the two girls just enjoying the moment while it lasted.

"_Jesus, she's so pretty when she's laughin' just like that. Man, I wish she'd just go out with me…", _Sookie groaned as the familiar thoughts of her boss – Sam Merlotte – assaulted her mind. It wasn't completely hiss fault though; mind reading isn't exactly common – as far as she knew – and so everyone's entitled to their thoughts but it was getting late and she was tired and distracted…it just…slipped through, to her eternal annoyance – she just didn't feel the same for him. Plus, he'd had countless chances to make a move and he'd never done anything about his little crush, choosing to instead continue mooning over her from distance and while at first the blonde was flattered and entertained an occasional 'what if?', that ship has long since sailed for her and most days, she found herself wishing Sam would just move on already…

Sighing wearily, she quickly turned away from the bar – before he could find some silly reason to approach her – and scanned the now half-empty premises; the evening rush was done and over with, only a few tables in her section remaining occupied still – such as one of the window booths, where the Rattray's were parked, nursing their third pitcher of Bud…

Lip curling with anger and disgust as she glared daggers at the foul-mouthed couple, she failed to notice as the bar's door opened and in stepped a pale, slightly disheveled looking man with dark hair and eyes that seemed even darker, ensconced in shadows as he was.

The immovable void of silence that his un-dead mind was seemed to finally reach the blonde girl as she quite suddenly and forcefully ripped her gaze away from the pair she'd been glowering at so intently, only to meet the deep, dark and penetrating gaze of the stranger before her; a gasp fell from her full lips as she took him in – from his wind-swept dark brown hair, to his somewhat cold gaze that seemed to be glued to her for some reason, to his pale skin and…and that not quite natural, almost ethereal glow about him that no one else seemed to be able to see…

It was that thought that brought her to the quite sudden realization: he was no ordinary man, oh no…he couldn't possibly be human at all, which could only mean one thing…

"Vampire…", she whispered under her breath and then she smiled.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.**


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